_________________________________________
{Straight From the Heart} *Play Ball!* 6/28/00
_________________________________________
Welcome to "Straight From the Heart!"
If you enjoy this free daily email service, I encourage you to
forward it on to family and friends. If this has been passed along
to you and you want to join the list, just send a blank email to: Thunder27@aol.com
I appreciate any feedback or constructive criticism, so feel free
to write me (Michael T. Powers) and let me know what you think!
___________________________________________________
Today we have a great story from Scott Graffius, who is the music and
youth minister at our church. As soon as I read it, I was taken back
to my own childhood, and the thousands of games of baseball that we
played. I hope you enjoy Scott's reflective look back at playing ball.
Scott just finished the manuscript on his first novel entitled,
"The Morrison Project." Kristi and I are eagerly awaiting the chance
to read it, and will let everyone know when it becomes available!
Michael
___________________________________________________
Play Ball!
By: Scott Graffius
When the tired old school bus had finally eased itself to a stop, I
grabbed my backpack and ran down the aisle, past Mr. Sutton, our bus
driver, and out the door. As I bounded up the stairs and into the
door of our house, I could hear Mr. Sutton arguing with the clutch,
the bus lumbering on to its next stop. I had one thing on my mind:
baseball. I was meeting the guys to play ball across the road where
we always play. I ran through the living room and the kitchen, up the
stairs and into my room, I thought the school day would never end, but
the bell had finally rung, interrupting Miss Blaire's math problem.
It was long division. I hated long division. I would sit at my desk
for hours every night with a math book in front of me, thinking of
everything in the world except long division.
It was a clear afternoon in early May, just perfect for ball. I
changed out of my school clothes and into my ball clothes, because one
time I made the mistake of playing ball in my nice gray sweater that
aunt Cindy had given me for my birthday. It had rained some the night
before, but we played as hard as ever. When I came home with a dark
mud stain on the left elbow of the gray sweater from sliding into third
base, my mother persuaded me in a not-so-gentle manner that I should
choose less formal attired to play ball in.
But on this particular afternoon, the ground was dry and hard; it
hadn't rained for several weeks, and the farmers were starting to
wonder. I ran down the stairs, out the door, hopped on my ten speed
Huffy bicycle and rode down across the street where we always played.
I was the first one there (because I lived the closest). We played
ball in the cemetery. The west end of the cemetery had about an
acre's worth of open field, perfect for baseball in the spring and
football in the fall. A large walnut tree stood in the corner of the
lot, and it served as a convenient home plate.
I suppose some kids would think it a bit strange to play in the
cemetery, but the residents didn't seem to mind, and we were always
careful to find out way home before dark, when scary things happen in
cemeteries. The cemetery was where we did our kite flying, major
sporting events, and held countless games of hide-and-seek. A pine
tree in the middle of the cemetery was home base and from there we
would run and hide behind one of the larger gravestones. Sometimes
I chose Claycomb, Smith, or Detwiler, but the best gravestone in the
whole cemetery to hide behind was Kenneth Davis. He died in 1917 in
a war that was probably fought when dinosaurs roamed the earth, the
wheel was the latest thing, and Miss Blaire was just starting to teach
sixth grade. Kenneth Smith had a nice Gravestone made from black
marble and shaped like a giant Bible. On one side was an American
flag and on the other was a small bush. A kid could hide there for
days and not be found, except after two or three times. It was a
dead giveaway, so I had to vary my hiding place to keep them guessing.
Just then Mickey showed up, and the two of us pitched an old baseball
back and forth while we waited for the others. His real name was
Sylvester McGinness, but we called him Mickey because he wore a Mickey
Mouse tee shirt about three times a week. Besides, "Sylvester"
required too much effort to say, so he became Mickey McGinness.
It didn't take long for the other boys to show up. Stan always
brought three bats, an extra mitt and a nice white baseball that
said, "official" in small red letters. Whenever Stan showed up,
the game could begin.
The first order of business was picking teams. There were only eleven
of us, and Rob and Shawn were always captains and they always chose
the same people first: Curtis, Aaron, Stan, and Kevin Guyer. The
rest of us were sort of grudgingly accepted. Picking teams was a
humiliating necessity, but with that out of the way, we could start
to play. We didn't have a coin toss, but Rob's team was first up to
bat because there were eleven of us and Shawn's team ended up with the
extra player. Part of picking teams is the traditional argument over
"who is always up first." This time Rob won the argument.
That meant we were out in the field, and since Rob was captain, he
batted first. He hit a line drive to Glen, our shortstop and second
baseman. Glen was a pretty good player and he managed to jump up and
catch Rob's hit for an out, which made Rob angry. The next guy
stepped up and hit a triple, but then Shawn struck out two guys in a
row, and it was our turn to bat. Aaron scored our first run, but
somehow we were out in the field again before I had a chance to bat.
I took my place way out in right field where nobody ever hits it.
This time around they scored a couple of runs, and we had a hard time
getting three outs on them. It gets kind of boring out in right field.
I looked over at Chad, who was covering the rest of the outfield. He
was sitting down and inspecting his mitt for any signs of dirt or wear.
His dad worked in real estate and evidently made a lot of money,
because whatever Chad wanted, his dad bought for him. His dad was
gone a lot, though, and his mom watched TV all day long. Chad never smiled much.
After a while, my mind drifted away from the game, and I stared
counting clover leafs in the grass and daydreaming about being a
famous racecar driver. I would be the most popular kid in the whole
school. Then I would always get picked first. Maybe I wouldn't even
have to go to school. I could just race my bright red car every day,
and when I won, they would give me a giant trophy to take home and put
with all the others, and the crowd would lift me up on their shoulders
and chant my name, like they do on TV when someone wins a race.
Just then I heard a loud smack and felt a sharp pain in my left leg.
I fell to the ground and screamed. Jeremy Bennett must have hit a
long fly ball that broke my leg, because he's the only one that could
hit it that far. My short life seemed to be coming to an end. Soon I
would have my own gravestone over by Smith, Detwiler, and Kenneth
Davis. In between sobs I told my buddies that they were always
welcome to hide behind my gravestone. They tried to calm me down and
told me that I wasn't going to die. They heroically carried my over
to my house where my mom administered first aide with the skill of an
experienced physician. It turned out to be only a severe bruise just
above the knee. It was sore for a few days and stiff for a week, but
soon I was back out on the field with the guys.
I sort of lost track of them over the years, but their memories still
bring me a smile when nothing else will. Stan and Mickey started a
dry cleaning business. Shawn moved out to California, and nobody's
heard from him since. Chad is about to take over his dad's real
estate business and will probably have his own kid to buy stuff for
someday. I'm not sure what the others are up to.
They put many more graves in the cemetery since our baseball games,
including some people I used to know. The field wouldn't really work
for ball anymore, but the built a real baseball field for the kids
now, with a backstop and everything. When stress is weighing heavy
and all my hard work just seems to drag me deeper in debt, that's
when I wish I was out on that field with the guys, arguing over who's
up to bat.
Scott Graffius
mightyrockriver@excite.com
Send Scott an email and let him know what you thought of his story!
***********
A little bit about Scott:
Scott Graffius is 24 years old and lives with his lovely wife Megan in
Janesville, WI. Megan teaches 6th grade at Marshall Middle School. This
is her first year of teaching, and she loves it so far. Scott is the
Youth Pastor and Worship Leader at Faith Community Church, but on his
days off he enjoys playing guitar, along with fishing, graphic design,
camping, golf, mountain biking, cooking, reading, rock climbing,
video production, snowboarding, writing and any other creative
endeavor. He has just finished the first draft on a Christian-fiction
novel entitled, "The Morrison Project."
___________________________________________________
Thought For The Day:
"God always gives His best to those who leave the choice with Him."
(Jim Elliot)
Verse for the Day:
"Blessed be the Lord, who daily loadeth us with benefits, even the
God of our Salvation."
Psalm 68:19
Kid's Thought For The day:
"If you can't find a way through the crowd, make one."
Parent's Thought For The Day
"What is a home without children? Quiet."
(Henny Youngman)
Coach's Thought For The Day
Triumph is a little "umph" added to 'try."
Deep Thought For The Day:
"It takes money to make money, because you have to copy the design
exactly."
_
/_/\/\ MICHAEL T. POWERS
\_\ / THUNDER27@aol.com http://members.aol.com/Thunder27/index.html
/_/ \ "For I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but
\_\/\ \ Christ lives in me. The life I live in the body I live for the Son
\_\/ of God, who loved me and gave Himself for me." Galatians 2:20
Video Imagery (Michael's Video Production Business)
"I thought of you first after my family sat down to watch the video
we gave them. They loved it, to say the least! Within thirty
seconds my mom was crying and my dad did too. They said it was
the best Christmas gift we could have given them!! You did such
a beautiful job! They were so suprised and so touched---they
really, really, really loved it. Thanks for helping to make it so
special to us all. My mom mentioned how the songs were perfect for
the video too! Thanks again!"
Kelli (RKaGe@aol.com) College Station, TX
Let me make you a video from your pictures or home movies!
Check out the web page for Michael's video production business!
Video Imagery
http://members.aol.com/Videoimg/index.html